“I don’t think she has anything to make up for. I just want to climb back into that glorious hot tub. And ...” Emboldened, she traced a finger down his chest, over his shirt. “Maybe get you out of this.”
“You can have the first bath.”
“Sam,” she said, looking him in the eyes. “Use those detective skills of yours. I don’t want to take a bathalone.”
“Oh,” he said, and for the first time in her life, she watched someone’s eyes dilate with lust. “Oh.”
Her first time in the hot tub had been wonderful, but this was even better, sinking into the luxuriously hot water with an even more luxuriously naked Sam. Somehow she had thought their first time together would be a rush to completion. But it turned out that they both felt like they had all the time in the world. The entire night was ahead of them, and they bathed together, exploring each other’s bodies slowly and carefully with gentle touches. Neither of them was a virgin; both had a long history, bodies mapped out in scars and memories. Now they slowly remapped those bodies with new touches, new caresses.
Toweling off was an equally long, slow, sensual process. Maggie laughed aloud when Sam picked her up to carry her to the bed.
And from there the soft touches turned heated. She was ready and willing when he pushed inside her. There was definitely a lot to be said for a lover with experience; she found him responsive and calm and easily willing to change if she wanted something done differently. And there was also a lot to be said for being far enough into menopause that she wasn’t too worried about an accident. They came nearly together, joined in spasms of pleasure, and settled slowly into a pleasant lassitude entwined on the bed.
After a while, Sam got up, beautifully naked, and went to fetch a handful of tissues to clean up with.
“I think we both need another bath,” Maggie remarked lazily. She pushed herself up on her elbows and looked out the window. It seemed like it should be dark, but the afternoon sun cast shadows through the half-drawn curtains. “You know, it’s still Christmas. Do you and Charlie have gifts for each other?”
“We exchanged them back in the city, before we came up here. I do have a small thing in my bag for her, a book. I’ll give it to her later,” Sam said. “Do you really want another bath?”
“I’ll wrinkle up like a prune if I do it now. Just come here for a little while.”
They were lying together in a comfortably snuggly human pretzel when there was a knock on the door.
“Housekeeping?” Sam murmured.
“At this hour?” Maggie got up and slipped into the red kimono, then went over to open the door.
Mauro was standing there, grinning. “In all the commotion, I forgot to tell you. We closed the auction yesterday evening, and you both won something.” He held up a small woven basket. “Believe it or not, no one else even bid on this. So it’s yours, Maggie.”
“What’s that?” Sam asked, coming up behind in a complimentary robe of his own.
“Your Christmas present.” Maggie grinned as she shoved it into his hands. “I was hoping to win something, I guess I didn’t expect this to be it, but I hope you like bread.”
It was a sourdough starter kit, with a cookbook, an old-fashioned wooden cutting board, and a red checked dish towel wrapping it all up.
Sam laughed. “I do, actually. And I enjoy cooking. Yes, I’ll use this.” He set it aside. “Did you say we both won something?”
“That’s right. This is the one you got.” Mauro passed an object to Sam, something fairly small; Maggie didn’t get a chance to see it before it whipped by her and vanished into the sleeve of Sam’s robe.
“Thanks,” Sam said, grinning. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you both. Thanks for supporting the food bank!”
The door closed, and Maggie leaned against it. “Okay, what’ve you got?”
Sam extracted the object he had so quickly and deftly palmed. “I thought you might like to start a new collection of your own. All fully legal and above-board, this time.”
It was a small jewelry box. When she was looking at the charity offerings, Maggie had deliberately skipped past the ornamental and shiny objects on display to avoid tempting her magpie, so she hadn’t even noticed Sam had bid on something. She had no idea what was in the box. Cautiously she opened it, and wondered what she would do if she found herself overwhelmed with uncontrollable treasure lust at the sight of it.
Inside the box was a lovely blue and silver bracelet. Maggie caught her breath. Her magpie went loopy with delight, but it was more a frenzy of thrill in their mate providing them with beautiful, shiny objects than a desire to rush out and collect more.
“Here, let me,” Sam murmured. His fingers brushed her wrist as he fastened it there. “I knew this would look lovely on you.” His thumb traced across her pulse point, just below the blue and silver band.
Maggie held up her wrist to admire it. “How much did you bid to get this?”
“Enough to be sure I’d win it,” he said. “After all, it was for a good cause. More than one good cause, even.” He moved in to kiss her, lingering and slow. “Merry Christmas, Maggie. I hopethis will be the first of many more Christmases, and many more gifts.”
“Merry Christmas, Sam,” she murmured, and rested against his chest, the bracelet glimmering on her wrist like new hope.
